Storyteller
by CeCeLa
Summary: An empire on the heels of war, a scorned, betrayed Emperor without a Queen and a servant girl who is an excellent storyteller.
1. Jacob and Rachel

**See, did I not tell you that I had a peace offering? Do you forgive me for the delay in updating my other story now? In any case, just to clarify, this is Human AU, set in Ancient Roman. So Roma isn't Ancient Roman as in the personified nation, just the emperor of said nation. Last thing, I know Ancient Rome did not conquer Seychelles, but just over look that minor fallacy and go with it! Let RomaSey have their fun, ok?**

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**Storyteller**

**Story One: Jacob and Rachel**

In the time of conquers and empires and kings, where land was taken by the strong, the Roman Empire was by far the greatest. It stretched from Africa and Egypt, the land of gold and sand, across the vast clear waters of the Mediterranean Sea and hills of the Greek Isles, up the exotic lands of Dalmatia, Asia and the nations of the Black Sea. Up and over, through the territory of its rival Germania, the Roman Empire in its glory didn't stop until it reached Britannia and taking over everything west of its capital of Rome in Italia. From the beautiful wine regions of Gaul to the beaches of Hispania, all of it belonged to Rome.

A great empire is never without sacrifice and the expansion of Rome came at the expense of countless wars and battles, young men dying and old men talking politics.

And on a lone night the Roman Emperor finds himself plagued with worry. As all men are haunted by the vastness of eternity. Will their actions echo across the centuries? Will strangers hear their names long after they are gone, and wonder who they were, how bravely they fought, how fiercely they loved?

Oh how he loves women and men but a woman is cunning and deceptive. He learns this the hard way as a woman steals his heart and his bachelorhood. And he, so haughty and perhaps filled with wine, let that Delilah take him and make herself Queen. Now the Emperor is a man, he has many lovers but she is above them all. Or she was until she betrayed him with flattery and womanly woes, tied him up and tried to cut his hair to take his strength. She'd wanted to assassinate him, a messenger and spy of Germania. Her plot was discovered however, and his Empire and life of spared.

Now the Emperor is kept awake with war in the horizon and no wife to ease his mind and bring him peace. Concubines and lovers were fun for when he has needs of the physical kind but hardly offered any solace when his mind needs stimulation. They only see his beauty, physical strength and status. The rest is lost on them. So not only is his mind heavy with plans of war, there is the matter of choosing a new bride.

Since sleep will not come, Julius, face of the Roman Empire, occupies himself in his outer chambers with clays, water and sculpting tools. His servants worry for him as they watch the man pace in the shadows behind veils that keep him and his work askewer. They know he's moving because his silhouette is visible through the sheer curtains and the blob of clays that's slowly taking on the form of a man can be seen. Julius dresses in loose robes that blow like the curtains from the breeze that passes through the room from a balcony not far away. He says nothing for the most part, in silent concentration like any good artist.

The moon is high, the night is quiet and a lowly lady in waiting to the former queen is summoned. Her face is a shadow, a ghost like so many other workers in the royal house. In an empire so vast, it is not uncommon to see someone of a darker complexion present though there are indeed very few to have such an opportunity that she will.

A eunuch rouses her from her sleep, informs her of the Emperor's restless situation and instructs her to rise as they have a task for her. She obeys with a nod and dresses quickly into more appropriate attire than her nightdress, though it is hardly anything compared to the silks adorned by the Emperor. Michelle wonders why they would summon her of all the female servants to attend to the needs of the Emperor. She being of even lower rank than most due to her coming from Africa. But when she asks as her and the eunuch walks the cold, still marble halls, his reply is simply,

"Because of your voice."

Her voice? It seems a weird thing to want. Did the Emperor expect her to sing him a lullaby? She can't sing to save her life. She may in fact be put to death for killing the Emperor rather than helping him nod off to sleep.

Michelle clenches and rubs her arms as nerves begin to set in. The eunuch is silent again, the halls are dark and she's never been this close to the Roman Emperor before in her life. Naturally, she's scared.

He leaders her to the door that opens to the outermost part of the Julius' chambers, stops and turns to her.

"Michelle of Seychelles," his voice is so deep and her mind is so gone that she jumps in fear, "Seat yourself on the stool and read the scroll. It is a chronicle of the Emperor, the royal diary. Remember the protocol: to approach uninvited is death."

"I reading to him?" she questions. Well, it clears up why her voice is needed and also insures that neither she nor the Emperor will die tonight.

The eunuch nods once and pushes open one of the doors. Immediately she feels the draft of summer air. It pricks her skin and makes her shiver. Michelle ventures in, glancing back just as the man closes the door. There are no more guards here, she notices. No eunuch, no solider, just her, a cushioned stool on which sits a rolled scroll and behind veiled curtains the Emperor is working on something. She glances behind at the door once again before swallowing thickly and moving to sit on the stool.

Even behind the veil, Michelle can see that the Emperor is a tall, broad man, with wide shoulders and big hands that delicately balances a tiny sculptor's knife. She clenches the scroll in her lap and watches him as he bends slightly over a low working table, chipping away at whatever material he has.

But she isn't summoned to be a spectator of his skills; she's here to read. So Michelle undoes the binding on the scroll with slightly shaky hands and unrolls it enough where she can see the first few entries.

"Daily entry 23," she starts in a small voice and looks up to see if the Emperor is paying attention. He hasn't appeared to move from his previous spot, still chipping away so she carries on. "Egyptian wheat reserves were reported at half the normal level due to a recent drought."

Michelle clears her throat, glances at Julius, and then continues, "24, Admiral Ecstese was honored for serving 20 years in the Royal Fleet. After a lengthy speech he promptly keeled over and died." A breathy, quick laugh slips from her throat and Michelle quickly purses her lips and looks up once more.

Julius doesn't seem to even know she's there. He's still working on his sculpture. The shape is starting to look more like a man as she can make out a head, nose, neck and body. But she clears her throat softly and speaks up this time just in case he couldn't hear her.

"Entry 25: Archippus of Rome lost his slave Onesimus. After four days, Onesimus was found near the city walls. The authorities promptly captured him and he was immediately sentenced to execution."

She grimaced at such a harsh punishment but reads on for the next few entries. They are mundane, mostly about the prices of things within the Empire, taxes and new policies. She yawns and blinks rapidly to keep her eyes open. How is the Emperor even still functioning? Her eyes are threatening to close; yet, in all that time, Julius is still standing, still sculpting away as if Michelle isn't reading him the most boring bedtime story.

How long is she supposed to read? The scroll is quite lengthy and she's only gotten through ten logs. Is she supposed to go on until he declares himself tired? If so, it didn't appear that he was going to do that anytime soon.

Michelle sighs and slouches. Julius doesn't notice still. He hasn't really noticed or acknowledged her at all so she doesn't feel the need to sit with perfect posture to impress him. She unravels more of the bottom of the scroll and rolls the bits that she's read already.

"Entry 33," Michelle pushes her luck by sounding less enthused this time and letting her weariness seep through her voice. Julius sculpts away. She keeps going, ", three head of sheep were stolen from Deremont Mera, Satrap of Media. He requested the crown send out the proper authorities..."

She glares at veils as she trails off. He's not even listening to her. Not one word. The Emperor is too focused on whatever he's doing to pay her any attention. Not that she wants him to look her way or sit on the floor next to her like the children used to do in the small village she's from. It would be nice to have a bit of acknowledgement though. A grunt or hum of approval, anything to show that he hasn't summoned her to waste her time that could have been used for sleeping. It's the middle of the night after all and Michelle, unlike Julius, was asleep.

And if Julius isn't even listening, then perhaps…a small smile creeps on her face as she lowers the scroll. Perhaps he won't notice if she fabricates the chronicles just a tiny bit.

Michelle thinks for a moment and decides a story that she likes will do. Stories from her childhood seem too common for an Emperor's chronicles so she recalls one told her by a fellow female servant from a small village west of Mesopotamia.

She smiles wistfully and sits the scroll in her lap, "Jacob, also a shepherd by trade was sent off into the far, far off land. Where he came across the fair Rachel, tending her father's sheep. He was smitten." She pauses to see if he's noticed the change in context and it didn't appear so. Pleased, she grins to herself at the ingenious of it all. Now, at the very least, she won't be bored.

"He went and rolled the stone from the well, reeled in the bucket and watered her flock for her. Jacob kissed Rachel and wept with joy." she abandons the scroll next to her as she prompts her elbows on her knees, resting her face in her palm and visually traces the marble patterns on the floor.

"Laban, Rachael's father, heard of this and ran to meet them. He embraced him and kissed him and brought Jacob back to his house where Jacob stayed for one month. One day, Laban said to Jacob," Michelle deepens her voice just a bit to sound more like a male. "'Should you to serve me and my daughters for free? Tell me what shall your payment be for your work?' Jacob said, 'I will work as a servant for you for 7 years if I can marry your youngest daughter Rachael.' Jacob served 7 years tending Laban's sheep and it only seemed but a few days, for the love he had for her."

Michelle sits up. Truthfully, she's forgotten all about the Emperor and tells the story with the enthusiasm and emotions she feels the characters have.

"Then Jacob said to Laban, 'Give me my bride for I have faithfully served you these seven years!' Laban threw a great wedding feast, but in the dark of the evening, while Jacob drunk from wine, Laban brought his older daughter into the room. The two of them consummated the marriage."

Her brows furrow and she lowers her voice in regret, "But in the morning when he woke up, he saw it was Leah, not Rachael. Jacob was shocked!" She gasps and places a hand over her heart, feigning the emotion, "He said to Laban, 'What is this you have done to me? I serve you seven years for Rachael, didn't I? Why have you deceived me and gave me Leah?'"

"Why than," Michelle stops immediately, voice hitching in surprise as Julius speaks. "Have you deceived me?" Her eyes dart around as he is no longer standing by his worktable, sculpture abandoned and she finds him looming between the curtains in the shadows. "I must admit that never before has such a tale been found in the pages of the royal diary. Here I expect to be lulled to sleep by tedious reports. Instead I am beguiled by a love story."

Michelle looks guiltily at the ground. The goose bumps on her neck from the surprise of his voice only makes her shiver, partly from the breeze but more so of fear at overstepping her bounds.

She doesn't dare look up at him but her eyes slant in his direction and she can see his sandaled feet coming slightly closer to her.

"How does your tale end?" Julius asks and she hears what sounds like water swishing, "This Jacob, he is able to have his bride? He is able to have her?"

Julius is drying his hands when she hesitantly looks up. Michele keeps her eyes low though, not daring to look anywhere above his neck or meet his gaze. "Only after serving 7 more years for her, my lord."

He scuffs and turns to drop the towel on a nearby table. "And do you believe in such things? In love?"

Michelle chances a glance at him. Julius looks at her with seemingly tired eyes. She blushes, realizing her error after his question. Of course such a story is not appropriate in any instance with the Emperor, even more so now that his previous Queen betrayed him. Yet, she can't bring herself to feel regret. In fact, Michelle pities him.

"Is it the bases of all things good?"

"What's your name?"

"Michelle of Seychelles."

"Seychelles?" he repeats with a hint of amusement. Julius tilts his head and nods toward the veils, "Come. Come here is what to see what I've been working on."

It sounds like a question but Michelle takes it as a command and stands quickly. Julius already made his way behind the curtains and she follows a few steps behind, pushing aside the veils until she can see clearly him standing over a small brown statue. It's clay, she realizes as Julius soothes his finger over the sculpture's skull with delicate ease. She ventures hesitantly closer as he bends over it, dips his finger in a water basin on the table and brushes the spot again.

What he's trying to smooth out, she can't tell but Julius' amber eyes are so focused in concentration that she wants to believe something needs to be fixed. It shouldn't come as a surprise that the great Roman Emperor is an impeccable artist. Naturally since so many of his citizens are as well. It's a trait that Michelle could hardly picture him using. When she thinks of the Emperor, she thinks of a massive, relentless, ruthless bloodthirsty warrior. Not a man with nimble fingers, patiently smoothing out and rounding clay.

"Romans," Julius says, drawing her attention from his sculpture to his face, "we have a god of symbol form for love. His name is Cupid. The Greeks call him Eros," he stands straight and looks at her with a small smile on his face, "his arms will hold the bows; his arrows they say are tipped with love."

Michelle ventures a bit closer as Julius walks around his creation. "Some archer's arrows are tipped with poison, my lord." She reasons and hesitantly brushes her fingers over the still wet clay.

Julius grunts and she looks up to see him roll his eyes. "Sometimes, it's hard to tell the difference. The symptoms are the same."

Her brows furrow, hands still on the clay man as she looks at him. Julius is looking away with eyes worn and empty. "Love doesn't try to kill you," she reasons.

"Love has failed me," he starts solemnly, "Knowledge has failed me, and thus I bind myself to the protocols of my fathers and to my empire."

Michelle wants to tell him that it's not true. Love hasn't failed him and that love is kind and patient and doesn't do wrong. The Queen didn't love him.

Michelle wants to tell him so much but the doors open and both she and Julius look in the direction the eunuch is walking. The Emperor acknowledges him then turns briefly to her. "Perhaps in another time, some other place, you will read to me again."

He nods at the eunuch then turns and walks into the opposite direction as the other man guilds Michelle towards the door. She looks over her shoulder at Julius' retreating figure and wonders if she will ever see him look happy.

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_A/N: So? Yes, no, maybe so? I like it! Only two more chapters to go! This is seriously the shortest story I've done that hasn't been a one-shot! This pairing has grown on me in ways it probably shouldn't. It's so wrong but so right! You know you love it!_

_-CeCe ^^_


	2. The Wise Young King

**Storyteller**

**Story Two: The Wise Young King**

It is over a month before the next time she reads to him. They are in the royal gardens, in the cool of the day and they are not alone.

Julius reclines on a cushioned bench, his head resting in the lap of one fair blonde maiden who didn't look very 'maidenly' with her bosoms on display. She strokes his hair and face and coos at him. A brunette woman sits beside him with a large bowl of succulent red grapes that she teases and feeds Julius. Another woman stands above the three with a fan to cool them. And Michelle, she sits on a stool opposite the scene, more in the grass. Julius is gracious enough to have a servant bring her cover from the sun. For a man currently in search of a new wife, he has plenty of women to keep him company, she being one of them obviously.

The brunette traces Julius' lips with grapes and he responses by sticking his tongue out and talking grapes and fingers into his mouth. Michelle looks away and squints her eyes though the sun is not in them. The women giggle as the Emperor mumbles something to them in Latin. She purposely decides not to translate the words and focuses instead on a particular red flower that's caught her attention.

"Storyteller," Julius calls, and she can tell he's distracted by how far away his voice sounds. Another woman giggles. "Why have you stopped your tale?"

"Because you weren't listening," and her bluntness comes with Michelle herself being distracted by that alluring flower. It is so beautiful and she wonders what kind it might be. The palace has many flowers and she enjoys picking them to bring back to her room. But this one, this is one she knows she hasn't come across before.

"But I was!" Julius protest, "You were talking about a King and I want to know his troubles. Maybe they are more than mine and he can offer me some wisdom?"

The 'cooing blonde' decides to speak, "Oh but Julius you are already so wise and strong." She flatters him, "You don't need a children's story to help you."

The brunette also offerings her advice but Michelle tunes them all out and abandons the stool to walk over to the flower's bed. The woman holding her shade follows swiftly to block the sun as she bunches up her toga to get on her knees. Michelle reaches out and rubs the delicate petals between her fingers. It's softer than silk and fragrant. She lends in and sniffs, then smiles as her eyes dance at the other beautiful flowers surrounding them.

"Amazing," Michelle breathes and stands as she spots a white rose like flower growing up a vine. She smiles with glee and reaches on her toes to pluck it.

"…See, she is the distracted one, picking flowers and telling stories like a child."

Michelle hums and comes down from her toes with the rose in hand. "You think I'm a child?" she questions wistfully and fingers the petals. "Well you're wrong. I'm much younger than that!" she teases and glances over her shoulder to see the women looking down her through upturned noses.

But Julius is just staring. She turns away, flower to her noses as she eyes the lower row. "And, sometimes, children's stories make us feel better and reminds of things that we've forgotten."

"Pff," one of the women interjects, "There are other things, more pleasurable things to make you feel good than old fair—,"

"And," Julius cuts in. Michelle turns as his voice lacks the playfulness it once held. He shifts to sit up, removing himself from the woman's lap. "What of this story?"

Michelle holds her flower close and watches him. "Of The Wise King?"

He nods.

She bites her lip and looks down for a moment before looking back at him and finishing her story, "As I said, this king was very young. His father owned a vast kingdom and all of the people loved him because he was brave and smart. His son loved him very much and tried to follow in his ways."

"So one day he went to make an offering to the gods at the temple. That night, the young king had a dream where his god appeared to him and told him, 'Ask me anything and I'll give it to'. The young thought long and hard of all the things he could want."

Michelle turns to face Julius fully though he's staring at her so intently that she almost shrinks back. Her eyes dance briefly between the three woman surrounding Julius before she looks back at the Emperor.

"And," Julius urges as he stands. His face is unreadable Michelle does take a small step back this time. "What does this 'young king' ask his god for?"

She clears her throat, clenching her hand around the steam of the flower. "T-the young king finally says to his god, 'you've shown great kindness to my father because he was faithful to you and upright in heart. You continued this kindness to him and gave him a son to sit on his throne."

Michelle fidgets under Julius' gaze and finds that she can't just stand still while he looks at her so she slowly, cautiously turns her gaze away from him and makes for her seat.

"'Now,' the young king said, 'you have made me king but I am a child and do not know how to carry out my duties. This kingdom is too big with countless people, so give your servant wisdom to govern these them and distinguish between right and wrong."

She glances at him, turns on her heels and walks into the opposite direction, "His god was pleased with his answer so he said to the young king, 'since you haven't asked for riches or women or the death of your enemies but a discerning heart in administrating justice, I will grant your request. You will be the wisest king who ever lived.'"

"'Because you haven't asked for something selfish like long life or wealth for yourself, I will give you the things you haven't asked for. I will give you both riches and honor—so that in your lifetime you will have no equal.' And so the young king woke up and realized it was a dream. Then he went to the temple to make a sacrifice to his god and thanked him for the wisdom he was granted."

Michelle pauses when Julius scuffs and crosses his arms. "So he wasted a one time opportunity from the gods on wisdom?"

She looks at him and shakes her head, "Not wasted, my lord."

Julius takes a few steps forward and Michelle starts to walk again as he speaks, " Why not ask for the death of his enemies? Or riches or more land? "

"But he gets riches."

"Yes, but he still has enemies that can easy take it from him, his riches and his honor."

"Yes," Michelle says slowly, regards her flower and then him, "But if he's wise than he'll know how to defeat his enemies and manage money so he doesn't spend it all. Wisdom brings everything else."

It's Julius' turn to walk around. He scratches the stubble on his chin and eyes her as Michelle tries to discreetly walk away from his gaze. "Tell me, Michelle of Seychelles, how does he know the gods did not trick him? He made a sacrifice without testing his wisdom to see if they tricked him."

She smiles at him then, "Because there's more to the story. His wisdom is tested when he goes to court."

"Is it now?" Julius questions as the two seemingly walking in circles around each.

Michelle nods, "Do want to hear it?"

He looks at her in consideration for a moment but nods and gestures for her to continue.

"Well," Michele starts and twirls her flower, "Two woman approach the king in his court, and one is holding a baby the other isn't. The woman without the baby explains that they both had a son at the same time, in the same house. They were the only two in the house. But the other woman accidentally killed her child in the middle of the night because she slept on him. The woman says that, the other woman switched the babies while they were sleeping, giving her the dead baby and stealing the alive one."

"When she woke to feed her child, she found the child was dead but after looking closely, realized that it wasn't her child. But the other woman claimed that the dead baby was hers and that she must have accidentally killed her child. The two women argued before the king. "

"So," Julius interrupts and, much to her satisfaction looks thoughtfully at the sky, "Two women claim one alive child."

"Yes," Michelle confirms.

"There are no witnesses besides themselves because they live alone?"

"Mhm"

"And the woman holding the alive child as been accused of stealing the other woman's child in the middle of the night after smothering her own?" He regards her as she nods at his understanding.

"So this king displays his wisdom how?"

Michelle brightens at his question, "By ordering the baby be sawed in half and a piece be given to both women. _But_," she cuts him off as Julius opens his mouth, no doubt to refute the wisdom in his choice. "The first woman fell to her knees and begged the king not to kill the son and even said the other woman could have him. The second woman wanted the baby to be cut in half so neither of them had a son. The young king declared that the first woman was the mother because a woman would rather see her child taken away than killed."

Julius stops his walking to look at her. "What if neither women made such an exclamation?"

She shrugs, "A woman loves her child."

He nods, "Yes but it is too extreme a judgment to be considered 'wise'.

"But it work."

"Indeed it did, Michelle of Seychelles," Julius says thoughtfully, "Indeed it did."

Michelle offers him a pleasant smile and, much to her surprise, he returns the gesture. She rocks on her heels, looks down at her feet and then back to him but Julius just smiles broader and even stiffs a chuckle.

"Milord," a male servant enters the palace gardens and bows his head briefly to Julius, "I've been sent to tell you that your candidates for today are ready to see. The first one waits in the corridor just inside milord."

"Send for her," the Emperor orders but his gaze has yet to leave Michelle's and she wonders what it is he could be thinking.

The manservant nods and hurries off. Michelle looks away as Julius' eyes on her make her blush. Though he is older, his face is still handsome and bronzed from the Italian sun. Yes his facial features and built is very nice but it's those eyes that make her undone. So she watches, instead, as the other man scurries away.

He returns a short time lady with a young woman, perhaps a bit older than Michelle. She's adorned in fine jewels, gold and a beautiful blue detailed toga that clings flattering to her figure. Her hair is a thick sea of brunette curls, pinned with golden reefs and other accessories.

Michelle looks down at her own servant's toga that lacks in fine detail and is a bit too long because of her small stature. Never has something like how short she is been more obvious than it is now in light of four other ladies.

Though Michelle's figure with her curves and edges may be appealing, she's far too small to be considered as something to be desired. This woman seems suitable, at least looks wise, to be a queen.

"Milord, this is Octavia," the servant says and bows as the woman walks closer of her own accord.

Michelle stays, fiddling with her flower, as she is unsure of what to do. The other three women remain as well. Julius moves to meet his candidate and smiles broadly at her. She watches their exchange as the woman smiles sweetly when the Emperor takes her hand and brings it to his lips for a kiss.

Michelle looks away again.

"You can take your leave now," Julius says though his attention is now on the lovely woman before him.

Michelle takes that as her cue and hurries to get inside. She hears the other women whispering behind her but she hastily retreats further into the palace, away from the gardens the candidate and the Emperor.


	3. Cinderella

**Storyteller**

**Story Three: Cinderella**

Julius sighs and raises his golden chalice to his lips to drink but the wine is gone. Sighs turn into a deep groan as he just throws the empty thing to the ground. He scrubs his hands over his face and through his hair as if the action will make everything better.

It doesn't.

He pushes from his chair and goes back to stand by his working table where the servants bring him paints this time and a canvas to occupy his restless mind.

The Senate is pressing him to find another wife, preferably a Roman woman from Italia. Every woman he's met thus far has been painfully dull. Upper class women receive excellent education but Julius will beg to different. The women seem more concerned with make-up rituals than learning music. He even asked simple questions like how they would run the house but the answers he received were far from satisfactory. One girl even released the contents of her stomach on his floor shortly after walking in.

Weak. The women are weak and simple-minded and he's tired of trying to find a bride. With war just over the horizon, Julius feels his time could be better spent.

So he doesn't want entertainment tonight. Julius shuns his concubines in favor of a paintbrush and wine and then orders for someone to read him the boring details of his royal diary. The mentions are mind numbing enough to dull his senses and force everything else, the war, the expansion of the Roman Empire and the women away.

He's barely at the point were he can feel the buzz of alcohol in his brain when he hears his chamber's door open. Julius stands in front of his canvas, painting the flowers of his gardens from memory. The scene is controlled, peaceful, never-changing and still, how he wishes his thoughts would be.

"The scroll is on the stool," he instructs and sits down his paintbrush to retrieve his discarded chalice. "You may begin when you are ready."

The servants bring him another vessel of wine and Julius pours himself a generous amount. The night is still young, early evening almost so getting drunk now wouldn't lead to something awful happening by morning. He paces and drinks and waits for his reader to start. When they don't, Julius slowly makes his way from behind the veils.

"Is there a problem?" he asks as he makes out a figure standing close to the stool, "They didn't tell you why I called you here? That I'm weary at this procession of candidates? I simply wanted someone to," he pauses as the silhouette obscured from his veils give way to a view of a woman.

"Wait," Julius sits his cup of wine down as he eyes this woman dressed more for a casual walk through town "You're the woman who read to me before, Michelle of Seychelles. You tried to beguile me with love stories and fairytales of wise kings."

Michelle looks at him either frightened or disappointed. He can't make out which one it is; just that she looks about ready to retreat. Upon closer look in the lamplight he sees that she has make-up on her eyes and her cheeks are flushed.

Julius rolls his eyes and grunts his disapproving annoyance. Of every female he's come across in his empire, she seemed the most different. But, again, his knowledge has failed him in this regard and this woman is more bold and forceful than any of them.

He paces for a moment, glancing at her in disdain until she lowers her eyes, "Did you not think I had the sense to see through your little stories?" Julius questions without waiting an answer, "Your tales that were meant to 'remind me of something I've forgotten?"

He mocks her,"the arrogance, you speak to me as I were this Rachel, in need of help to look after my father's sheep!"

"M-my lord, I-I meant no disrespect." Michelle stutters out in a whisper but Julius continues.

"Then you further insult me by saying expanding my empire, getting riches and defeating my enemies is the wrong choice over gaining knowledge?"

Julius contemplated her stories for days and though these were only a few scenarios he assumed she meant, they serve his current purpose of lashing his frustration on her.

Michelle was supposed to be like his gardens, still, never changing and peaceful. She was different. She was supposed to be different from the rest of the woman who cared about make up and the opportunity to call themselves the emperor's wife.

No, she's just like the rest of them, just like every other charming, deceitful woman who took advantage of his kindness.

And it disappoints him more than he cares to admit.

Michelle looks at him pleadingly, "Please my lord, I,"

Julius holds up his hand and she shuts her mouth. He gestures to her current attire, "And the audacity of you, a servant woman in _my_ house, to come to my chambers dressed as you are with the presumption that I, the Emperor of Rome, would place you in the running as my bride. If I want you, I can take you without offering marriage as a prize."

The red in her cheeks darken, spreading to her one exposed ear as her hair has been carefully braided to one side and held in place by a jewel adorned ribbon. Julius notes that the flush is real and not from some make-up though he can see the black lines draw near eyes that makes her resemble the women of Egypt.

"My lord king," Julius hears the quiver in her breath, the hesitancy in her tone and he stops his pacing to listen to her speak. "Forgive me, I was misinformed about what you wanted. The women, they told me," she swallows and glances up at him finally, "They told me you wanted to see me not as a servant and I assumed…"

Michelle trails off and he sees from the almost panicked look in her eyes that Michelle is neither frightened nor disappointed. She's embarrassed. Rightly so considering the cruel trick whoever these ladies were played on such a kindhearted servant as she. His lashing out probably isn't making her feel better either, though he is peeved at whoever told her such a lie.

A sigh escapes him and Julius eyes her and her attire for a moment.

The toga is flattering and, as he can only assume, the best one she has. She wears no jewels, no gold bracelets or necklaces, no emeralds or rubies on her finger. The only thing remotely resembling some type of accessory is the red band in her hair. It's decorated, from what he can see, with intricate woven in colors of blue, yellow, white and green with a gold trimming between each color. There are small bead like things that reflect the light when she moves her hair. She is, in his opinion, hardly dressed for the occasional she 'assumed' was going on.

"Even if," Julius says in a less accusatory tone, his temperaments cooling upon seeing the look of guilt and shame on her face, "I decided that you were worthy to be in the precession, this is how you come to see me?" He gestures to the ribbon in her hair, "The treasury is open for the candidates to choose any jewels they want to make themselves presentable for me. But this is your only adornment before your only chance to woo me?"

Michelle fiddles with her fingers but nods, "It is, your majesty."

Julius looks curiously at her before asking, "Do you consider yourself of so little worth, that I could purchase your love so cheaply?"

She doesn't answer him quickly and Julius takes to opportunity to walk around to get his glass of wine while she finds her tongue.

"I suppose," Michelle finally starts and he watches her over his cup's rim, "when you visit someone who is noble, rather than expect a gift, one should bring one to lay at his feet."

Julius grunts and lowers his cup.

"Is this something you've learned in one of your stories?"

Another nod and, with a bit of reluctance, Michelle reaches up to undo the ribbon. Julius watches in silence as she carefully takes it a loose. Her braid slowly begins unraveling at the ends but she stretched the hair tie to its full length, then looks at him with her arms outstretched in offering.

She lowers her head then and Julius stands a bit straighter at the presentation. "Supposing still," Michelle says, "That you wanted me here for reasons other than to read; I would offer you this as my gift. It's my most prized possession in the world, the only relic I have from my homeland. It is my past, present and future and all of it is yours."

He lowers his glass completely and blinks in disbelief at the display. No other candidate offered him something so precious and priceless as this. Yet here is Michelle, head bow in reverence, offering him perhaps the only thing of significant value she owns. It's an admiral gesture even if the situation is hypothetical. So why does it make his heart quicken and stomach tighten and flutter?

Julius sits his chalice down, walks up to her and takes his offering from her hand. He turns his back to her and regards the ribbon in his hands. The material is dyed silks and cool to the touch. The beaded craftsmanship is present throughout the of the ribbon save the ends where she ties them. He brings to closer to his face and sniffs it. There is a scent, soft and subtle but distinctive. Not the overpowering smell of female perfume but something sweet and warm that he sighs in contentment at what he assumes it is Michelle's natural smell.

"Some would call you foolish indeed," Julius says more to himself than to her, absently rubbing the material between his fingers, "As they would your Jacob. Perhaps your 'young king' can offer wisdom. Of all commodities," he turns to her and holds up the hand that holds the ribbon, "love is the easiest and the most cheaply purchased."

He expects her to be, at the very lest, lost for words at his conclusion or even further embarrassed by her previous display. But Michelle looks at him with contemplating eyes before speaking cautiously.

"If it's for sale, than what you're buy is not love."

He considers her words and takes a step closer. "Even you," Julius catches her gaze and holds it with his own, "Even you must have a price."

Michelle bits her lip but he sees a flicker of something in her dark eyes before she speaks. "I have none. My love is not for sale and I'm not in the market to buy any."

Julius chuckles but regards her with seriousness as he toys with her ribbon.

"Suppose then," now it's turn to hesitant and Julius looks down before meeting Michelle's gaze again. He pauses his fiddling and stands a bit taller, taking another step close, "someone offered a more treasured and coveted gift, say an empire?"

Michelle's brown eyes widen and Julius can see that she gasp by the way her chest heaves. The color is back in cheeks and she purses her lips. But Julius can care less about all of those things. He wants to hear her answer. He wants to know what this woman, who's enchanted him with love stories, tales of wisdom and offerings of reverence has to say to him offering her a chance to rule over an empire.

She exhales shakily and looks down before looking at him and, for the first time that evening, Michelle smiles softly to him.

"Suppose than," Michelle clears her throat, "I was to tell you that my interest is not in the empire but the Emperor? Suppose I said that he could have all the riches in the world, all the land, win every battle against his enemies, and all of the wisdom of the young king and all of that would mean nothing to me if I couldn't have his heart first."

Julius exhales in disbelief and its his turn to grin and his cheeks to flush slight and he blunts out the first thought that comes to mind, "Than it's yours," he reaches and takes her hand, placing her palm over the silk ribbon in his hands, "And didn't take you seven years to get it, just a promise of more fairytales."

"Even fairytales hold truths."

"Then marry me," Julius says earnestly, "and we will spend an eternity uncovering these truths. Together."

He lifts both of their hand and kisses her knuckles, "My lady, "Julius states and grins at the way Michelle seems to become undone under his gaze. Her hands are hardly delicate, dainty maybe, rough from actual work but still smooth enough to be considered feminine.

Michelle inclines her eyes to him, "My lord," she says.

Julius pulls back but doesn't let go. Turning instead and leads her to the inner most parts behind the curtains where his painting sits. "Come see what I've worked on tonight."

He let's go of her hand and allows Michelle to venture closer towards his half finished artwork. He watches her as she watches his art. The lightening is better here and he notes that her eyelids have been painted with gold and her seems bronzer than usual. It catches the light and gives her such a warm, earthy glow. It's absolutely captivating and Julius studies her face and small hands as they ghost over the canvas without touching it.

"I know these flowers," Michelle mumbles and points to each other, "I've picked them to put in my room. They're so beautiful and you paint them so lifelike. They look like silk."

Julius grins and closes the distance. "I had inspiration from a storyteller who plucked one of my flowers not too long ago."

He stands beside her but turns to face Michelle. She keeps her eyes on the picture but he sees the small quirk of her lips and the tint in her cheeks that hasn't gone away. It's adorable really that she's trying to avoid looking at him. It's fine though, she doesn't have to so long as she allows him to look at her.

He notices that her pesky braid is partly undone and he looks at the ribbon in his hands. Now, Julius is no woman and he can't actually fix it. So, instead he takes her hair in his hands and runs his fingers through it so it hangs free. He takes a lock of deep brown hair and leans down to sniff it. He follows that sweet warm scent up and pressed his noses against her head. His eyes closes and he huffs, turning his head so his cheek can rub against it.

"You're beautiful, Michelle." Julius whispers.

"You flatter me, my lord." Michelle says in equally hushed tones.

Julius chuckles and lifts his head. He lets go of her hair and his hand finds her cheek to turn her face properly to him. "I'm an artist, I know beauty when I see it. I know a beautiful woman when I see one."

She blushes and looks down, "You're very good at flattery…"

"Extremely," Julius assures and brushes his thumb over her cheek. It's as soft as the petals of the flowers in his garden.

He teases her lip with his finger and leans in, "Well, Jacob," Julius says airily, "You have your Rachel. Won't you at least grace this fair maiden with a kiss, hm?"

That makes Michelle giggle and she looks at him with lidded eyes. "I can't see you as a 'fair maiden'."

"You don't find me fair?" Julius feigns hurt, "Where you not 'smitten' with me when you saw me at the well with my father's sheep? Have my womanly woes not caught your eyes, Jacob?"

"…They have…"

Julius hums in approval and bumps his nose against hers, "Than it's only fair if we finish the story."

Before Michelle can offer her answer, be it a rebuttal or acknowledgement, he kisses her.

* * *

_A/N: Done. Finished. Completed. How in the world did I finish this one before the other one? I don't even know. Maybe because it was only three chapters? Who knows. Anyways, here is some useless information._

_**Totally Irrelevant Facts**_:

**Word Count**: 7,660 (without author's notes)

**Page Numbers**: 14

**Musical Inspiration**: Celion Dion, _A New Day_; Sade, _No Ordinary Love_

**Top four countries with the most views as of today**: US, Canada, China, Singapore

Deuces, I'm going to a hockey game!

-_Cece_ ^^


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